


You've Got Me (On a Cliff's Edge)

by CapricornBookworm



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Astronomy Tower, Banter, Blow Jobs, Christmas, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Idiots in Love, Inexperienced Harry, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 13:01:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13214298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapricornBookworm/pseuds/CapricornBookworm
Summary: Harry and Draco run into one another up on the Astronomy Tower. They both find far more than they were looking for.





	You've Got Me (On a Cliff's Edge)

“Get the fuck out of here, you wanker! You think that because you’re the golden boy, you can waltz around the castle like you own it?”

Harry stood paralyzed in the door frame, his body alight with ill-advised desire, while his mind was running rampant, compiling a list of less-than-pleasant hexes to use on Malfoy. “Uh - I just -” 

Draco pushed himself off the floor, not even bothering to tuck himself back into his trousers as he stalked toward the complete _idiot_ standing there with his mouth gaping unattractively. “Potter! Move your arse or I’ll move it for you.” He noticed that when he had moved closer, Potter’s gaze was fixated on his cock, still hard and hanging out of his trousers. It was flushed and dark, the swollen head looking nearly as angry as he felt. A fire rose up painfully in Draco’s chest, and he reached down to take ahold of his cock. He squeezed at the base and hissed at the sensation, wagging his length at Potter. “What? Never seen a prick before, Potter?” he bit out.

The sharp cut of each of Draco’s consonants felt like a knife slicing through Harry’s airways. He was taking unnaturally short breaths, the words escaping him each time he opened his mouth to say something. He had certainly seen cocks before, but there was something about seeing Draco’s cock - long and slender, angry and red - it was so very different than catching a glimpse of McClaggen’s prick in the showers after Quidditch practice, or walking in on Dean and Seamus fucking between classes. 

It felt intimate and dangerous. 

Harry wasn’t sure whether he was aroused or terrified. 

The growing bulge in his trousers told him that it was a bit of both.

“No, I’ve...I’ve seen them before,” Harry finally replied, his voice sounding jagged and broken.

Draco glanced toward the doorway behind Potter, making sure that no one was watching this exchange. Thankfully the Astronomy Tower wasn’t particularly popular in the middle of the night during the Winter Holidays. Most of the castle was back home with their mummies and daddies. Meanwhile, people like him and Potter remained at Hogwarts, either with no family, or no _decent_ family to return home to. When he saw that the doorway was empty, he took a step closer to Potter, “Well, then. Why exactly have you been staring at it since you walked in here?”

“No reason. I’ve really only been staring at it since you got up.” Potter shrugged his shoulders, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, “Bit hard to ignore.”

“Are you complimenting the length of my prick, Potter?” Draco teased, taking a moment to give his cock a few leisurely strokes, emphasizing just how long he was, running his thumb over the flushed head and savoring the burn deep in his stomach. 

Harry’s mouth watered against his will, and he felt a tug at the back of his knees, as though some part of his mind wanted him to fall to his knees at Malfoy’s feet. At this thought, he shook himself, turning away from the slender git and his perfect slender prick before he had the chance to do something truly mad. “Go fuck yourself, Malfoy.”

An ice cold laugh poured out of Malfoy’s mouth and down Harry’s spine, the gooseflesh now arising along his vertebrae having little to do with the chill in the air from the freshly fallen snow. 

“If you hadn’t already noticed, that’s what I was _trying_ to do when you so rudely interrupted me.” 

Malfoy’s head of blonde hair cut into Harry’s visual field as he stared out over the snow-covered grounds, the frozen expanse of the Black Lake, and the thestral foals romping through the snow piles at the base of the Forbidden Forest. “I came up here to look at this view, not to - not to watch you wank. You’ve already had your time up here, so why don’t you go back to your room and wank in your bed like a normal person.”

Harry watched as Malfoy blatantly went against his suggestion, settling down on the floor of the Astronomy Tower, shifting his legs around and leaning back against a column. When Malfoy looked up, he raised a thin eyebrow threateningly at Harry, as though daring Harry to question his presence. Determined to be the bigger person, Harry merely rolled his eyes and leaned his forearms on a railing, staring out over the grounds once more.

Several moments of silence passed before Harry heard a rustling.

Draco stared up at Potter with a smirk, watching the scar-headed twat resolutely ignore him and pretend to admire the ‘beauty of the grounds,’ though Draco was willing to bet his stash of Premiere slow-brewed Firewhisky that Potter’s mind was still consumed with Draco’s cock. 

After giving Potter a moment or two of apparent ‘peace,’ he reached down and pushed his trousers off further, giving him better access to his cock. He then pulled his wand out of the pocket of his robes, which were lying nearby, and cast a quick Warming Charm over his body. 

“Oi! What are you doing?” Harry asked, eyes now flickering back and forth between Draco’s exposed prick and the wand in his hand. 

“I’m not going to curse you, Potter. There’s no point, really. I was just casting a Warming Charm on myself. If I’m going to finish wanking, I don’t want to freeze my arse off in the process.” Draco paused, and gave Potter a second to process what he had just said. “Want me to do you as well?”

Draco delighted in the flush that rose immediately on Potter’s cheeks, the words spluttering out of his mouth in a discoordinated jumble, his eyes wide, “What?! I don’t - No!”

“For the record, I was referring to the Warming Charm. Anyways, suit yourself, Potter. You will freeze if you don’t let me use the charm on you. I mean, honestly. Do you really not own a proper cloak?” He trailed his eyes up and down Potter’s body, from the beat-up trainers, to a pair of loose-fitting denims, and finally to a thin Gryffindor Quidditch jumper. No cloak, not even a scarf. The bloody idiot. 

Without thinking, Harry found himself turning and sitting so that he was leaning back against the railing near Malfoy. He then gestured down at his body, “Fine. Just do it.”

Pointing his wand at Potter’s chest, Draco concentrated on the spell and cast a wave of heat from Potter’s exposed neck, down to his abdomen, over the bulge in his denims, to his scrawny ankles which had been exposed when he sat down. He watched with satisfaction as Potter shivered from the power of the spell before the tension in his shoulders seemed to release and the shivering stopped. 

Draco couldn’t help but ask, “Better?”

“Loads,” Potter replied, with a small smile on his lips, as though he forgot who he was talking to. “I’m bollocks at warming charms, can barely keep my tea hot in the mornings.”

“Mmm, is that so?” Draco hummed, settling his back more comfortably against the column and starting to wank himself slowly. 

Potter huffed a laugh, running a hand through his perpetually messy hair and giving Draco a glimpse of his oh-so-famous scar. “Yeah, when Hermione and I were searching for Horcruxes during the war, we would camp out in snowy areas for days. I swear I couldn’t even keep my fingertips warm. If she wasn’t with me, I’d have probably died of frostbite before dying at the hands of Voldemort. It was pathetic, really.”

Draco flinched at the sound of Voldemort’s name, unable to help it. It had been months since he had heard it. After Hogwarts had been rebuilt, it was as if the entire castle wanted to forget the war ever happened. People avoided the topic, avoided mentioning their dead friends or family, and above all, avoided mentioning the Dark Lord. Draco was grateful for it. Everytime he heard the name these days, images of the lifeless bodies he ran past during the Battle of Hogwarts would flash through his mind at lightning speed. He took his hand off his prick, feeling his erection dying down as his mind spun. 

“Shit, sorry. Didn’t even think about it. I won’t say his name again.” Potter said, worry clouding his face, his unruly eyebrows furrowing. 

Draco glared over at Potter, interrupting when he saw Potter’s mouth open as if to continue his apologies, “Shut it. It’s fine. But this -” Draco gestured down to his lap and his rapidly wilting cock, “- this is your fault…. Fix it.”

There was silence, and Draco’s heart clenched in his chest. He had taken it a step too far. He always did. 

But then. 

But then Potter nodded.

He nodded and suddenly Draco was the one seemingly paralyzed. Potter shifted closer to Draco until their sides were nearly touching. Then he reached out towards Draco’s cock, his hand visibly shaking, though Draco knew it was not from the cold. 

“Have you… done this before? With another bloke?” Draco asked quietly, determined not to spook Potter out of doing this.

Potter shook his head, hand pausing before it could reach Draco’s cock. “No. I’ve only been with girls… Or - really, just one girl.”

Draco considered this for a moment, and then closed his fingers around Potter’s outstretched hand, guiding it towards his cock, “I’ll show you.” Draco spoke softly, sparing a glance at Potter’s eyes, the usual emerald green turned dark, his pupils blown wide. “It’s just like wanking yourself.”

Harry allowed Malfoy to guide his hand, feeling his heart pound uncomfortably hard against his chest. When Harry’s fingers finally brushed the skin of Malfoy’s cock, he sucked in a breath, shocked at just how velvety soft the skin was. It was impossibly warm and he could almost feel it pulse as Malfoy guided his hand to wrap around it. 

Their hands moved together for several strokes, Malfoy guiding Harry’s hand slowly up and down his length. Harry could feel it grow in his hand, becoming fuller, longer beneath their touch. It was not unlike touching his own cock, but there was something far more exhilarating about touching someone else. 

The angle was different, almost awkward. If it hadn’t been for Malfoy’s hand, he would probably have been unsure quite how to stroke it. The shape was different too. Harry’s cock was shorter than Malfoy’s. Thick and veiny, where Malfoy’s was slender and smooth. 

It made his stomach clench with desire as he felt Malfoy’s cock was swelling in his hand, knowing that he was responsible for Malfoy’s arousal. 

Harry found himself leaning further into Malfoy’s space, their shoulders bumping and their cheeks brushing as Harry concentrated on his task, trying to absorb every moment of this before it evidently backfired. 

He could see liquid pooling at the tip of Malfoy’s cock, clear and bright. He moved his hand up towards the head, trailing his thumb experimentally through the precum, watching as it spread over the slit, threads of it sticking to Harry’s thumb as he pulled his hand away. A gasp of warm air hit Harry’s jawline and Malfoy spoke up, his voice far from his typical smooth-as-marble tone, “Yeah, you’ve got it.”

Draco let his hand fall away, pressing it into the hard floor below him and trying to hide the tremble tickling at the base of his wrist.

As Malfoy took away his hand, Harry froze, unsure of what to do next. 

“Well, don’t just stop! I only meant that you didn’t require a tutorial anymore, you numpty.” 

The words cut through Harry’s moment of uncertainty, and he began to move his hand once more. Malfoy sighed in Harry’s ear as Harry developed a rhythm. Whether the sigh was from relief that there was a hand back on his cock, or relief that Harry had decided not to run away, Harry didn’t know. Either way, the release of breath sent gooseflesh rising over the skin of Harry’s neck. 

With each stroke of Malfoy’s cock, he seemed to be leaning in closer to Harry. His head was pressed into Harry’s neck, the silky strands of his hair tickling the bottom of Harry’s chin. It was almost eerily quiet, Malfoy’s sighs and hitches of breath were the only thing Harry could hear. 

Not a second after Harry was thinking of the silence did Malfoy shatter it. “Grip it harder, Potter! Merlin, it’s not made of fucking porcelain.” 

“You are such a prick,” Harry replied, his voice laced with bitterness, though he immediately adjusted his hold on Malfoy’s cock, wanking him with a tight, firm grip. 

“Ah - _fuck_. That’s it, Potter…You’re - _uh_ \- not so hopeless after all.” 

Harry couldn’t help the little smile that formed on his lips at Malfoy’s praise. It may have been a shit compliment, but it was a compliment nonetheless. He continued his ministrations, paying close attention to what drew reactions from Malfoy. A twist on the upstroke as Harry neared the head earned him a gasp of pleasure; a hard squeeze at the base of Malfoy’s cock every once in awhile earned him a muffled curse; alternating the pace and firmness of his grip seemed to melt Malfoy altogether, the head of blonde hair shaking below Harry, the sharp line of his nose pressing into the side of Harry’s neck with almost painful force.

Draco was almost starting to regret giving Potter directions, the tosser was actually following them...and _bloody fuck,_ it felt good. He hated how vulnerable he felt, hated that Potter was learning how to take him apart, learning what got him off. He pressed his face hard into Potter’s neck, biting his lip tightly to muffle the embarrassing sounds that were threatening to spill out of him. 

Much to Draco’s despair, Potter was fast learner and seemed to know that he was getting close. His grip became impossibly tight and his strokes were long and slow, like a good, hard fuck. 

The only way Draco could keep from coming was to talk. When he un-clenched his jaw and released his tender bottom lip, what came out was a string of insults, “Barmy arsehole, git, prat, wank - _uhh_ \- shit!”

Potter actually laughed at Draco’s cursing, and he could hear the smirk in Potter’s voice, could imagine the stupid look of self-satisfaction spreading across his face. Draco swore that if Potter’s hand wasn’t on his cock, he would hex him. 

“Oh, shut it! Just finish your job,” he bit out at Potter.

Potter chuckled again, and this time Draco was tempted to bite his neck in retaliation. “My job? I do believe that I am doing this voluntarily, which means that I could stop at any moment. If you want me to finish so badly -” he squeezed Draco’s cock hard at the base, the sensation sending a whimper spilling unwilling out of Draco’s mouth, “- maybe you should try being a bit more grateful.”

Draco’s hips canted up into Potter’s grip as he replied, his voice coming out strangled, “ _Not likely_.”

Suddenly the tight heat around his cock was gone. 

Harry looked down at Malfoy, watching with delight as Malfoy quite literally fucked the air, his prick hard and straining, the veins standing out so prominently it seemed as though they were about to burst. 

Though Harry loved watching him struggle, he couldn’t deny that he hoped Malfoy would give in. He had gotten this far, and he didn’t want to stop before getting to see Malfoy come. “If you thank me for wanking you, I’ll finish what I was doing.”

“You want me to thank you?! For what? A pathetic excuse for a hand job?” Draco asked, tilting his head back against the pillar and groaning when Potter teased a finger over the tip of his cock. Potter hummed in response, but removed his touch when Draco’s cock twitched against his fingers.

A minute passed in tense silence and Draco could feel his body aching for more, the tension of his impending orgasm building in his neck and at the base of his spine. “Fuck it,” Draco muttered, rolling his eyes up toward the sky as though searching for help from some invisible force, “Thank you, oh Chosen-One, for your semi-decent wanking of my cock. Now, if you would please return to your task, it would be _greatly_ appreciated.” 

Potter let out a laugh so genuine and loud that it shocked Draco into laughing too. “Blimey, I wish I had that on tape.”

“Tape?”

“It’s a Muggle thing,” Potter said, a lightness coming over his features as he leaned back in to grab ahold of Draco’s cock. 

When Potter’s fingers were surrounding his prick one more, Draco couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, the tension easing throughout his body and his cock responding in earnest to Potter’s firm grip. 

It barely took anytime at all before Harry noticed that Malfoy was getting close. Malfoy began to gravitate towards him like a magnet, his body leaning into Harry’s until he was practically lying on top of him. He had shifted so that his shoulder blade was pressed flat against Harry’s chest, his head tilted back so that it rested on Harry’s shoulder, one of his hands dangerously close to Harry’s thigh. It was as if they were melding into one, and Harry found that he didn’t mind.

Harry found himself reaching his free hand around Malfoy, and encouraging him to lie back against Harry even further. At first, Malfoy froze, sucking in a breath, his body becoming rigid against Harry’s touch. “Don’t be such a baby. Just lean back against me. You were practically doing it already.” 

The rigidity eased beneath Harry’s hand, but when he went to guide Malfoy once more, the arsehole smacked Harry’s hand away from him. “I am capable of moving myself, Potter.”

Awkward shuffling ensued as Draco got up on his knees, stretching out his neck and back for a moment before turning and setting back between Potter’s newly spread legs. He had to admit that Potter’s chest was quite comfortable, and he was exceptionally warm, which was a nice contrast to Draco’s own perpetually cold skin. 

“You ready?” Harry inquired. He took a moment to admire the scene in front of him. Draco Malfoy was lying between his legs, cock out and leaking, completely at Harry’s mercy. 

It was a site to be seen. 

“No. I’m clearly not ready.” Draco replied with a deadpan, his tone void of any inflection. Potter went silent behind him. “Yes, I’m bloody ready, you idiot! I’ve been ready for the past five minutes. Get on with it, will you?”

Harry obliged, reaching around Malfoy’s slim waist to grab ahold of his cock. This time, Harry could feel every muscle in Malfoy’s body release at his touch, the tension falling away as he melted back into Harry's chest. There was something soothing about having that weight pressing against him, and Harry was savouring every minute of it. 

When Malfoy next spoke, his voice came out delicate and breathy, “Mm, a bit faster?” It was as if someone had taken his sharp, intense voice and shaved it down until it was smooth and understated. The effect had Harry's cock twitching in his denims. Malfoy’s softness was making Harry want to fuck him - _hard_. 

As Harry's hand sped up on Malfoy’s cock, Malfoy began letting out a string of hums and soft moans, each one vibrating Harry's chest where they were pressed together so closely. It was intoxicating how intimate and hot it felt. Draco Malfoy was practically purring in his lap. 

Each stroke, each swipe of his thumb, and each twist of his wrist were progressively turning Malfoy into a writhing mess. Malfoy was shaking against Harry, his head turned in towards Harry’s neck so that his breath was exhaled warmly over Harry’s cheek; the breath tickling the sensitive skin under his ear and causing Harry’s heart to pound faster in his chest. Malfoy’s breathing was becoming more shallow with each stroke and Harry could tell that he was about to come.

Draco could hardly hear, barely see, all he could do was feel as Potter’s hand moved swiftly over his cock, bringing his orgasm to the surface, and bloody _hell_ , the git better not be teasing him this time. Spots were appearing in his vision and he clenched his eyes shut to block them out. When he closed his eyes, the spots didn’t disappear completely, but instead were now moving around in his mind’s eye, images of Potter and himself fading in and out of focus as the bright spots shifted this way and that. He pressed his face closer into Potter’s neck, trying desperately to rid himself of his thoughts. He just wanted to come. He didn’t need ridiculous schoolboy fantasies to get him off. 

A minute passed in a silence thick with desperation. Harry continued moving his hand over Malfoy’s cock, but he readjusted his position so that he had the use of his other hand as well. He trailed his free hand over Malfoy’s abdomen, feeling him shiver at his touch and praying that it was a positive reaction. Harry moved his hand up to Malfoy’s collarbone and neck, catching a pebbled nipple through Malfoy’s shirt on his way back down. Harry heard a sharp intake of breath when his hand skimmed over a nipple, so he trailed his hand down and slid his fingers under the hem of Malfoy’s sweater to try it again. 

The first touch of Potter’s fingers on the bare skin of his abdomen was like a brand on his flesh. It was so hot it was blinding, and Draco imagined steam rising off of them from that single touch. Potter’s skin was rough, though not unpleasant, but Draco still made a mental note to tell Potter to use a fucking moisturizer. His fingers traveled slowly up the expanse of Draco’s torso until they reached his chest. These slow motions were a stark contrast to the fast pace of Potter’s other hand, still moving rapidly over his cock. When Potter dragged his finger over Draco’s right nipple, the rough skin of his thumb caught on the nipple in a way that had Draco’s stomach clenching in pleasure, a moan pouring out of his mouth. Before Potter could pull his hand away, Draco spoke up, his voice sounding hoarse even to his own ears, “Again. Do that again.”

Harry paused before running his thumb over the hard nub once more, eliciting a muffled curse from Malfoy. Harry took advantage of this newfound weakness to lure Draco into an orgasm. He pinched, flicked, and circled the sensitive skin of Draco’s nipples with one hand while he wanked Draco’s cock with the other. His arms were encircling Draco in a warm heat, and somehow, in all their tangle of limbs, Harry had never felt so comfortable. 

Gasps, insults, and curse words were surging out of Malfoy, each one making Harry’s own cock throb in sympathy.

“Fucking hell, you git! Merlin - _uhh_ \- again, shit - _ah_ \- don’t you dare fucking s-stop.” 

Draco was dying. Surely death was near because his cock was practically bursting and yet he still hadn’t come. He was so close, so fucking _close_ , but he’d been on the edge for what felt like hours. Potter was practically caressing him now, but that clearly wasn’t enough for Draco today because he couldn’t come. Figures his cock would become picky. Draco knew that he was exceptionally picky and always had incredibly expensive taste - after all, he was raised to savour the finer things in life - but now his cock was demanding luxury too. The bloody ‘Saviour of the Wizarding World’ was wanking him. What was more luxurious than that?

Harry’s hand was cramping and his own arousal was beginning to cloud his mind, making it more difficult to concentrate on getting Malfoy off. He tilted his head down to where Malfoy’s face was pressing into his neck and whispered, “Come on, you’re so close. I can feel your heartbeat in your cock.” Malfoy merely let out a whine in response. Harry rolled his eyes, “I swear, Draco, if you don’t come in the next thirty seconds, I’m going to come my pants and then I’ll be completely useless to both of us.” 

Not a moment later, Malfoy was coming, he cried out into Harry’s neck, his cock pulsing out strings of come all over Harry’s knuckles and wrist, a few drops of come landing on the exposed skin of Malfoy’s abdomen and the hem of his sweater. Harry’s heart clenched and he bit his lip so as not to moan as he watched Malfoy shake with the force of his orgasm. There was something oddly beautiful about watching Draco Malfoy come. 

Draco’s orgasm was so good and so strong, it was almost painful. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come that hard, and he had been fucked into the mattress not even a week before during a trip to Hogsmeade. Potter hadn’t even touched his arse, and yet the orgasm was mind-blowing. Potter may just be the best shag he’s ever had. 

Not that he had any intention of _ever_ telling Potter that. 

They sat in silence for a moment, simply breathing as all the tension from Draco’s orgasm oozed out of his muscles. 

Potter broke the silence after Draco shifted to settle more comfortably against Potter’s chest, nuzzling the fabric of his jumper unconsciously. “Not that it isn’t comfortable to be used as your personal armchair, but I really need a wank.”

Draco sighed dramatically and sat up, “Mmm, I suppose. If you must. You know, you really are _terribly_ needy, Potter.” 

Harry looked up at Malfoy, ready to retort, when he saw a sly smirk and the hint of mischief in Malfoy’s eyes. “Oh, fuck you,” he muttered, shaking his head and hiding his smile as he reached down to pop open the button of his trousers. 

Draco watched Potter pull his cock out of his trousers, his own cock twitching in earnest when he saw just how thick and hard Potter’s prick was. Draco’s was longer, but Potter’s cock looked like it could split him open and make him scream. His body ached for it. 

Draco let Potter stroke himself for a moment, - watching him shudder at the first stroke, seeing his stomach muscles spasm as he spread his precome over his cock - before he took pity on the ‘Chosen One.’ 

“Hands off,” Draco said, moving to lie down on his stomach in front of Potter. 

Potter opened his eyes and looked befuddled, his brows knitting together and his hand pausing it’s movement on his cock. “What? Why!? You got to come already, arsehole! Why can’t I?” 

Draco chuckled as he shifted closer to Harry, “You can come, you dimwit. I just thought I would lend you a hand - or really, _a mouth_ \- seeing as you were so helpful to me.” 

Harry was shocked into silence, watching as if in slow motion as Draco Malfoy wrapped his hand around Harry’s cock and brought it towards his mouth. Malfoy peered up at Harry for an instant, his mouth centimeters away from Harry’s cock, “Is this okay?” 

Harry’s heart practically skittered to a halt before starting back up at rapid speed. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s fine.” 

Then Malfoy began to suck his cock, and Harry was unsure whether he would even make it a full minute before coming. 

The only person who had ever sucked his cock before was Ginny Weasley. Ginny was wonderful. What she lacked in technique, she made up for with enthusiasm and pure unrelenting determination. But Draco Malfoy sucked cock like a god. He was nothing _but_ technique and skills that surely rivaled people who got paid to do this. Hell, it felt like someone was trying to suck his soul out through his cock. Harry ran a hand through his hair in order to prevent himself from grabbing ahold of Malfoy’s own stands. He let out a stuttering breath before glancing down towards his lap. 

Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

Malfoy was lying between his legs, lips stretched taut around Harry’s cock, his pink tongue peeking out as he ran it around the head. His pale cheeks were flushed, the tips of his ears reddening too, as he bobbed his head slowly up and down. His eyes were shut, dark lashes fluttering. The look on his face was one of euphoria. Malfoy looked somehow at home with Harry’s cock in his mouth. He actually could not recall a time where Malfoy ever looked so relaxed. The sharp edges of his jawline and cheekbones almost seemed softened, and his hair was just as carefree as the rest of him, strands falling in his face and sticking up in odd directions. 

He looked angelic, though the way his mouth was pleasing Harry’s cock was nothing short of sinful. 

After running his fingers through his hair a number of times, Harry finally felt a pair of hands touching his own. Malfoy was guiding Harry’s hands to his hair. Harry’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, knowing full well that Malfoy was extremely protective of his hair. He had lost 50 points from Slytherin several weeks prior when he Hexed a second year for accidentally spilling a glass of pumpkin juice on his head. Harry hesitated, his hands hovering over Malfoy’s blonde strands. 

Malfoy pulled off of Harry’s cock, “Stick your hands in my hair, Potter. It’s not that difficult. Just don’t pull out my hair or slam your cock down my throat, and we’ll be fine.” 

Harry nodded in acknowledgement and sunk his hands into Malfoy’s hair. It was incredibly soft, though Harry shouldn’t be surprised, every inch of Malfoy’s body seemed to be as smooth as silk. He tugged experimentally on the strands and was rewarded with a groan from Malfoy that vibrated deliciously around Harry’s cock from base to tip. 

Draco could tell that Potter was close already, his cock was pulsing precome into his mouth and Potter’s hands were spasming their grip on Draco’s hair. The tugs seemed to be more reflexive than anything as Draco sucked and licked Potter’s length. Draco doubled his efforts, swallowing around the head of Potter’s cock, licking the slit, and then taking him all the way down, the tip of his nose brushing the black hair curling at the base. It didn’t take long before Potter was crying out and spilling into Draco’s mouth, his legs shaking and fingers tightening in Draco’s hair.

He pulled off slowly, taking his time to lick up any excess come, and giving Potter’s cock a final suck before he sat up. Potter looked thoroughly shagged. His glasses were askew, the lenses foggy and his eyes drooping shut. His hair was honestly no messier than usual. Potter always looked as though he was housing a family of birds in his inky black strands, though this time there was also sweat collecting along hairline. His face was flushed and his scar almost appeared more prominent than usual. His mouth was relaxed. He looked natural. Over the years, Draco had come to believe that Potter was incapable of any facial expressions beyond concerned, peeved, and extremely angry. Granted, he smiled with his friends occasionally, but Draco had never truly seen him look relaxed. 

It was a good look on him. 

Draco crawled back over toward the column Potter was leaning against, and settled against it too. Potter turned to look at him and his lips pulled into a small smile. Draco smirked, feeling a lightness in his chest as he turned away and closed his eyes. 

Then, out of nowhere, Potter began to laugh. Draco turned to look at the git, and couldn’t help but laugh too. He wasn’t even sure what they were laughing about, but it was evidently extremely funny. They were leaning into each other again, and Draco could feel Potter’s laughter, could hear the wheezes in his breathing, and watched a small tear escape out of the corner of his eye. Draco clutched his stomach and let the laughter flow through him. 

As the laughter subsided, Harry spoke, the residual chuckling still evident in his voice, “Fuck. Why didn’t we do that years ago?”

“Do what? Laugh until the muscles in my abdomen were threatening to explode?”

Harry let out of a huff of laughter, “No. The sex. Why didn’t we do _that_ years ago?”

“Because we despise each other, and you’re a bespeckled, scar-headed, idiot.”

Potter was silent for a moment and Draco feared that he had fucked it all up. But then Potter replied, “Do you still hate me, Malfoy?”

“Of course. I hate you just as much as I always have, even if I sucked your cock.”

Draco glanced over at Potter, watching his face break into a smile, wide and beaming, his eyes crinkling at the corners. It was so foreign for Draco to see that facial expression, especially directed at him, it was almost contagious. “I hate you too, Malfoy.”

Beyond the Astronomy Tower, the sky was getting lighter, the sunrise approaching as snow was falling softly, covering the grounds in a thick blanket. A pair of owls - one sleek and black, the other resembling the bark of a tree, speckled and complex, it’s feathers ruffled - were soaring over the Black Lake, turning and weaving through the sky in an intricate pattern.

Up on the Tower, Harry Conjured a stack of blankets and a pillow. Draco placed another Warming Charm over the pair of them, and they huddled under the blankets together.

They fell asleep wrapped around one another. Their bodies intertwined and their minds at peace. 

Everything was just as it should have been all along.

****

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title comes from 'Cliff's Edge' by Hayley Kiyoko.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed this fic! It was a labor of love.


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